Salvation
by PandorasBox7
Summary: What if after the horrible events at Malfoy Manor, the trio had escaped to the Burrow instead of Shell cottage?   This story is a Harry/Hermione/Ron shipper.


"The Burrow, the Burrow, just please the Burrow"

I pleaded in my head as I dissaparated Hermione and I out of Malfoy Manor. My feet hit the ground a bit harder than I would have liked them to and it took me a second to regain my balance before I started running towards the house I knew so well, clutching at the girl in my arms because my life, quite literally, depended on her.

But she was still not moving.

And she was still losing a tremendous amount of blood.

I arrived at the door faster than I thought was humanly possible and I started kicking it and screaming for help like there was no tomorrow.

And there might never be.

My sobs just mangled with my shouts, and my tears with her blood as I held her, held onto the half of my heart and soul, and yes I fucking admit it my life, until sweet salvation, I heard my mother's voice from the other side of the door.

"Who's there? Who are you?"

She sounded frightened.

But her fright was nothing compared to mine, which was almost palpable.

"Mum, help!" I sobbed shamelessly.

"Mum, Hermione! Help her mum please, Hermione's hurt, she's really hurt mum please, please, please". My 'pleases' got so jumbled at the end from crying too hard that they probably only sounded like I was dying or some shit like that.

And I wish I was instead of her.

The door opened so fast I hardly registered it had moved at all until I was face to face with my wide eyed and extremely pale mother.

"Oh my God Ron! Oh my….Hermione!"

She screamed as she registered the girl lying limp in my arms, blood everywhere. By then, my father and siblings had come down to see what the racket was about.

"Mum help her, please God help her, please save her, please!" I sobbed.

But I guess by now it was beyond sobbing.

I was hysteric.

My mum grabbed my arm and led me to the sofa where I gently laid my love. Bloody hell what I would give to make her move, do something to show me she was going to be okay.

But there was nothing I could do at all.

All I could do was sit beside her and hold her hand, telling her unresponsive form that everything would be alright. I don't know if she could hear me or not, but at least it made me feel better to talk to her.

Besides me my mum was fussing, was crying, was running around getting potions, waving her wand. Everything was so hazy, so blurry, so…surreal, and it scared the shit out of me. I was faintly registering my father's frantic voice attempting to talk to me besides me.

It was not the voice I wanted to hear. It wasn't HER voice. It wasn't Harry's voice either.

So I just ignored everyone and everything except for the woman lying unconscious in my arms. But I was momentarily snapped out of my self-induced coma by the sound of a tissue being violently ripped and I turned my head just in time to see my mother ripping open Hermione's shirt.

The first thing I thought was 'so much blood!'

The second was to kick my brothers out because Hermione deserves privacy. And I guess I kind of lost control because I started to shout at my siblings, except for Ginny, to get out because she deserved her decency, her dignity.

Her body was sacred; it should be venerated not pilfered!

And fuck did I venerate her body. And so did Harry.

My brothers for once did as I told them, they could see the gravity of the situation and I was obviously in no state to be argued with. There were no jokes cracked by the twins, no one spoke as they saw the state Hermione was in. She was like a sister to them, I knew they were in pain at seeing her like this.

I suddenly felt one of Hermione's hands move and I almost screamed of joy until I saw that it had only moved because Ginny had taken it in her hands.

The sinking feeling I felt then hit me harder than I thought possible, which is saying something. I found myself wanting Harry more than ever right here with me, with Hermione. We needed him, what was he doing?

My thoughts were interrupted as my mum cried a spell at Hermione in front of me and Hermione's chest gave a huge jolt.

But Hermione still didn't respond.

"Hermione baby please, please, please" sobbed my mum besides me as she tried her spell again. And then, sweet miracle and I thank every Gods for this, Hermione's eyes flew open. Her body gave a great heave and she was suddenly choking and spluttering, and then came the worst sound ever.

Her scream pierced through my soul like a hot knife in butter as she weakly tried to protect herself from non-existent blows, and her body jerked up as she was trembling and sobbing. I grabbed her arms frantically trying to calm her down, my anger towards Bellatrix flaring.

"Hermione! Hermione love you are safe, you're safe Hermione" I tersely but firmly managed to say, barely registering the fact that my mother had moved towards her head and was now attempting to calm her too, her hands around her face as she whispered to her.

Ginny seemed completely dumbstruck with shock and pain as she simply stared at her friend with tearful eyes, gripping her hand like no tomorrow. Finally, Hermione began to quieten down a little, her screaming turning into heart wrenching whimpers and sobs as her body shook and convulsed.

I gently kissed her forehead as my mother grabbed a potion from the coffee table and uncorked it with shaking hands. I my adrenaline filled lucidity, I realised that the potion was meant for Hermione, so I gently picked her up in my arms, resting her head in the crook of my neck as she gave a small shriek of pain, her voice raspy.

I felt as if my heart had just shattered. Harry, Harry where are you?

My mother then gently opened her mouth and poured the foul smelling liquid down her throat. Hermione spluttered and choked, and then after a great convulse, she vomited on the floor and fell back on me, barely conscious, her body clammy and feverish, her head rolling back.

What the bloody hell was that? Was that supposed to happen? I felt like throwing up too but I ignored the feeling as my mother started talking to Hermione in a gentle voice.

"Hermione sweetheart, you have to drink the potion to feel better. Please drink the potion!"

Hermione didn't seem to realise that my mother was talking to her. She instead was left shaking in my arms, her burning forehead in the crook of my neck, her breaths coming ragged and in short gasps.

Oh Gods. If there is one up there, please, I only ask one thing, please make her okay!

I hadn't realised my father was still there, or that I was still crying until I felt his hand on my shoulder, holding me steady as I swayed on the spot, feeling faint from everything that was happening. He opened his mouth to say something when suddenly Harry burst in the room, covered in blood and crying as he stumbled to the couch where I was sitting with Hermione in my arms.

My breath hitched as I thanked the Gods that at least he was all right and I reached out for him, wanting to see for myself that he was really there. I had to touch him, feel him alive and well. 'Harry, Harry, Harry…' was all that I managed to choke out, too overcome by emotion to say anything else.

Harry quickly grabbed my hand and fell on his knees with a small 'thud' in front of us.

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…" He choked out, his voice faint and raspy as he leaned towards us; his free had reaching out for her face, his fingers curling in her hair.

She moaned and managed to slowly turn her head towards him as her body gave another sickening heave which caused her to scream out in pain again, her voice so incredibly fragile.

I closed my eyes and winced as I felt Harry's hand grip mine tighter. He was shaking. I softly ran my thumb over his knuckles, trying to soothe myself as much as him.

Suddenly my mother spoke again and I opened my eyes.

"Hermione love, listen to me, you have to drink this potion to get better okay? Please dear please!" She pleaded her voice shaky and cracking with emotion.

My hand went to Hermione's face, joining Harry's and I felt her jaw slightly move to open her mouth. She was still conscious.

My mother carefully poured some more potion in her mouth with a shaking hand, managing to keep her tears at bay only thanks to dad holding her, although he didn't look much better than her, tears falling freely down his face as he looked down at the girl he had come to love as his own.

Hermione spluttered and choked on the liquid again, but managed with what looked like great effort to swallow it this time. The effect was nearly instantaneous as her convulses calmed down to shivers and her breathing evened out, and she just fell limp in my arms, out cold.

Harry and I looked at each other in shock and relief and I could only vaguely hear my mother's voice in the background.

My eyes were on Harry, and through the blur of my tears, I could see that he was crying too, big tears rolling down his hollow cheeks as he slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips on Hermione's forehead. I gently followed his lead and then we pressed our foreheads together, Harry and I, silently trying to give strength to the other.

I was startled back into reality when my father put his hands on my shoulders and then my mother gently told me that Hermione needed to be healed and cleaned, and that I had to let her go. Harry and I looked at each other in panic, we were not ready to let her go, but her health was more important than our needs.

Harry helped me gently lower Hermione's limp body on the couch, and after one last kiss on the forehead, Harry and I retreated to another couch which was the closest seat to Hermione. We were squished together but I was relieved for the contact; I needed him, and he needed me. Our Hermione was lying unconscious and battered on the couch; there was no way we were going to go through that alone.

Harry leaned onto me, his arms snaking around my middle as he laid his head on my shoulder, his entire body shaking. I pulled him tighter to my side, I was beyond the point where I cared if my family started getting suspicious about the love Harry, Hermione and I shared, a love far stronger than friendship. They would have had to know eventually anyways. And after everything that happened tonight, something like that seemed trivial compared to the challenges and dangers we were facing.

My line of vision towards Hermione was momentarily obstructed by my mother as she was leaning over Hermione, waving her wand and saying healing charms over and over again.

Hermione was still passed-out cold on the couch.

I was afraid, I was so bloody afraid that she would never be the same. How long were the Longbottoms tortured before they went insane? Hermione couldn't be insane, she couldn't.

I closed my eyes tightly, desperately trying to control the emotions that were trying to take me over but I failed. My entire body started shaking as great sobs racked through me, the events of the night finally catching up to me now that my adrenaline has left my blood, leaving in its wake a dull ache all over my body.

Harry held onto me tighter as he too started sobbing, our head bowed together, our pain shared as we both silently hoped that our love would recover quickly and fully. I don't know how long we stayed that way, clutching at each other, sobbing without holding back, but I was startled back to reality by a hand coming to rest on the side of my face and I whipped my head upwards so quickly my neck cracked.

Adrenaline was once again pumped into my veins as I got ready for a fight until I realised it was only my mother.

Fucking war made me so bloody paranoid.

My mother was looking at Harry and I with the gentle eyes of a loving mother, but the pain and fright was still visible. She gently stroked my cheek as she softly started talking.

"I will not lie to you, Hermione is really hurt. But I think that with enough rest and care she should make it fine. I have done all I could for her now, what she needs the most now is sleep, and love" she was looking at us knowingly, a small smile tugging at the side of her lips. She then took us in her arms for a long, bone-crushing hug, and I let myself take comfort in the arms of my mother. When she pulled back, she had to wipe her eyes before she continued.

"Bring her upstairs in your bedroom Ronald, she will be more confortable there then on this lumpy couch".

I smiled slightly too, feeling like an incredible weight had been taken off my shoulders. I knew Hermione wasn't out of the woods yet, but she had good chances to make it out fine, and for now that was enough for me. I heard Harry let out a breath besides me and I turned my head to look at him.

Our eyes met and we both knew what the other was thinking; our connexion was beyond words. He shared my relief, he shared my worries, he shared my love and my pain. He shared my heart with Hermione.

I finally felt myself ready to stand up, Harry mimicking me as we walked towards the couch where Hermione was lying.

She looked so fragile and breakable; it was unsettling and deeply moving to see a strong woman like Hermione so broken. She had always been the strong one, the one who always had the situation in hands and to see her this way made my anger towards Bellatrix come back again with even more force and I struggled to push it down this time. There would be more time later to let my anger out.

I gently picked Hermione up, making sure that her head was well supported. She was so light. The months of camping and low food supplied had really taken its toll on her. I looked over at Harry and realised that he too had become frighteningly thin. I assume I don't look much better myself.

I was still in a daze when I climbed up the stairs towards my bedroom, only keeping up thanks to Harry's hand on my lower back. My legs are like lead, weighted down by my emotions and the events that just happened.

One step at a time, one step at a time I keep on repeating to myself. Each step I take brings me closer to my room, but I feel like these stairs are never going to end.

Finally, we reached the floor and I painstakingly dragged myself and Hermione towards my room. It had not changed at all except for the fact that my bed was made and my floor was devoid of cluster, but it had this odd feeling a room gets when it is not used anymore, cold. I didn't even feel like it belonged to me anymore, the Ron that lived in this room was from another life, HAD another life. I was not the same I used to be, nor would I ever be.

Taking a deep breath, I ventured towards my bed, Harry pulled back the covers before I gently deposited Hermione on the well-used and slightly creaking mattress. Her head rolled to the side, exposing the cut on her delicate neck and I felt bile rise up my throat, but no other movements came from her. I sighted, sitting on the bed besides her and I put my head in my hands, leaning on my knees. I was overwhelmed, this is too real. We are too young to bear this burden ourselves, and look where this madness had brought us. The knot in my throat returned and I let my tears flow freely down my cheeks; I had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of with the two people in the room.

After a moment, I turned my head towards Harry and I saw him taking off Hermione's bloody shoes with immense care and affection despite his shaking hands and his deep emotional distress. He then pulled the cover back on her and gingerly climbed in the bed besides her without a word. No words were necessary, and what is the use of talking anyways? There was nothing to talk about, nothing to explain. We could only feel, experience. The event was too terrible for words.

I took a moment to just take in what happened, to try and digest the horrible event that had happened tonight. I was failing miserably. The pain, suffering and horror Hermione had to endure tonight was inhuman, too disgusting to even think about. But my mind would not stop going back to her awful screams, the sinking feeling of helplessness and panic, pain, my heart shattering in a million of pieces…I tightly closed my eyes and took deep breaths, willing myself to calm down. Finally after a moment, my emotions were back in check and only then allowed myself to slip under the covers to lie besides Hermione.

I buried my face in her hair, she smells like shampoo, blood and sweat, but I don't care. The feel of her wild curls tickling my face calms me and brings me this sense of security that I could only get when I was lying with Hermione and Harry. I passed an arm around her middle, liking my fingers with Harry's on her stomach, and only then, with the feel of Harry's hand in mine and Hermione's body tucked firmly between Harry and I did I let my exhaustion take over and sleep overtake me.


End file.
